That One Time When My Kid Freaked Me Out

I am tired of news. The last few months have been a horror show. I feel like I’ve been beaten with gasoline soaked bags of feathers. I am always kind of nauseous and feeling like I’m on the verge of a sinus infection. But I’m not. Just anxious and counting the days down until the goddamn election is over. I am curious if I am going to have to mourn all the progress that women have made over the past 100 years or not.

Warning: This is my safe place. Post political comments at your own risk. If I read it and it doesn’t make me anxious, that is cool. But if I feel even a flutter of tightness in my chest, I’m turning your comment into bad poetry. It won’t even be clever bad, it will just be bad, bad. 

So, I’m taking a break right now. I’ve had my fill of politics, racism, train wrecks, shootings, and clowns. (seriously, what is up with the fucking clowns?) I’m going to think about something else for a while because my brain has been itchy and swollen for too long.

I want to tell you about the time my older son, Zach, freaked me the fuck out.

My favorite stories have ghosts in them. Or werewolves or aliens. Give me a show with a monster of the week theme and I’m happy as a clam.

Why are clams so goddamn happy, anyway? What’s so great about being a clam? They just lay around. Or end up in soup. I bet those clams aren’t very happy. 

Give me Stephen King, the Winchester Brothers, The Doctor, or the badass with a crossbow, and it’s all good.

But these are just stories. Made up stuff.

I’m not a non-believer in the paranormal, but I am highly skeptical. Super skeptical. The only reason why I say I don’t believe is because I don’t know every goddamn thing. Well, and there have been things I’ve seen that I can’t explain. That shit keeps me from being a non-believer.

That being said, when Zach was little, he used to read my mind.

I started noticing it when he was very young. If I coughed, he would cough in unison with me. The first time I noticed it, I thought it was a funny coincidence. The next few times, I started giving my baby the side-eye.

The freakiest thing he did, though, was when he was three years old.

Zach and I lived in an upstairs bedroom at my parents house. I was newly divorced and attempting to go to college. That didn’t work out. Zach and I made it around 8 months of living in the same house as my father before I had to ditch college and go back to computer programming so we could get our own place.

Anyway, one night I watched Zach as he slept. I thought about the way he always knew when I would cough. Or the one time he asked me who Steve Martin was just when I was thinking about an the episode of SNL I had just watched. I contemplated whether or not my son could read my mind.

I did not speak these words.

I thought these words: Zach, sit up. 

And he did.

He sat up.

He was still asleep. His little dark curls were damp with sweat and he was wearing some superhero underwear, just sitting there because I thought it at him.

I did what any mother would do. I jumped out the bed and ran across the room going “Oh for fuck’s sake, what the fuck was that?”

I shuddered for a few minutes, yanked up my big girl panties, walked back to the bed and pushed his shoulder with my forefinger until he was laying down again.

Then, I went downstairs and watched reruns of Quincy because I was still kind of freaked out by my mind reading toddler.

There was also the incident when he was two when he very clearly told me about aliens that where in his bedroom window. I’m still scarred by that one. I will tell you about that one later.

So, I don’t have any new article links to share. But I do have more Dude stories. Not gonna lie, this is my favorite series of photos to date. I give my big man a lot of shit, but he does work hard to make me smile.

Don’t tell him I said that, though. Motherfucker will be intolerable.






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  • So. I DO believe in the Woo-Woo.
    Go figure…
    When Darin (the Baby) was around 3, he told me that (before he was born) “when he was in ‘the baby line’ God told him to ‘pick from those Mommy’s, the good ones.'”

    I loved the idea of the babies standing in line waiting to be born.

    I REALLY loved the idea that I was in the group of ‘good Mommies.’

    Curious. Do you and Zach still have the telepathy thing going on, or did it fade after he got bigger and the world interfered with his ability?

    Lovin’ Dude.

    Randy’s making alot of people smile with that line of photobombing comic relief.

    I promise I won’t tell…

    • No, it didn’t continue with Zach, I’m thinking by the time he was 5. Maybe a little younger. And I don’t recall there being any instances of me knowing his thoughts, it was just him knowing mine. It really was bizarre. And it isn’t like it happened a lot. Maybe a dozen times.

      Like I said, I am very skeptical. But I’ve seen and heard things that I can’t explain. Do I think there is a mundane explanation for these things? Probably. But I don’t know for sure and that is what keeps me from being a non-believer. Same with believing in a higher power. I’m not an atheist, but I am agnostic with a strong leaning toward atheism.

  • Yup.
    5 is about the time they either ‘lose’ the ability or it gets detectable by others 🙂
    (I don’t think we ‘lose’ the ability, I think we just get stigma-ed into tamping it down so people won’t say, “Wha… ?”)

    Give yourself a little credit. You DID know his thoughts when he was thinking ornery and about to get into trouble 😉

    That’s how we kept them alive… by KNOWING (reading their little thoughts and facial expressions) that they were contemplating various actions that may or may not get them killed 🙂

    And now, we get those little tingles, or pick up the phone, knowing it’s them.
    Little ‘woo-woo’s’ of love 🙂 and worry and happy and ‘what now.’

    Maybe not psychic… but maybe.


  • Good morning, ladies! I do believe that there are things out there that we just don’t understand because, you know, maybe we aren’t meant to. Let’s just say—I’ve had “experiences” with no logical rhyme or reason for them. But, they were specific and I can’t discount them.

    Hey! Please, can you and Lisa do me a favor? Say some kind of prayers or send positive mojo my way so this damned Hurricane Matthew, which is a category 4 right now, moves AWAY from my area? OMG, I need clear skies, not that kind of shit!!!

    I believe both of you were in the “good mommy” lines and your babies chose wisely. 🙂 XO

      • Oh, Tink 🙂 Thank you for ‘Good Mommy Kudo!’
        Need that every once in a while…

        We BOTH know (and Michelle can’t help but notice 🙂 ) that you and I have a ‘woo-woo’ connection!!

        I am surrounding you with crystal, red and brown.
        Crystal for sanity and no worries and clear thinking.
        Red for courage, strength and staying firmly connected to the Earth.
        Brown for Universal awareness and camouflage.

        Praying for you and your neighbors.

        Stay safe and and dry.
        Now I’ll be watching the news…

        • Thank you for the positive thoughts!!! Lisa, add a little turquoise to keep the rising ocean at bay! HAHA! We do have a spiritual lifeline linking us, Lisa. There is no doubt in my mind! 🙂

          I forgot to add this to my previous comment: Yeah!!! What the fuck is up with those CLOWNS??? They’ve now recently been spotting them in Indian River County, Florida, which isn’t close to me, but close enough! Are they working their way down? For all that is holy, if I see a creepy clown on my streets in the dead of night—no pun intended—I’m getting my gun out! Ew!!!

          • Yeah… the clown thing is fucking with me hard.


            Luckily? I have enough pent up rage and unexpressed anger that I think I got a good chance in a ‘hand to glove’ killing.
            Clown fucker is gonna get hurt, one way or the other…
            And I won’t need therapy that week!

  • To you, Michelle and your fans, I lurke and enjoy. I admire your openness to share your mind and thoughts with us. I’m feeling afraid to do so, to be honest – perhaps because I’m a trailing spouse in Saudi Arabia and my status here- even among other ex-pats -is already that as an outlier. Do you question yourself or just go for it? I used to be so brave and outspoken. I have been adventurous, but not so much lately, as I approach my 2nd 59th birthday next month, maybe it’s biological. The thought to write you came after reading your religious comments and the anxiety regarding the politics, news, etc.

    I did google “Is it worth it to lose friends over Trump?” and also asked my 31 year old daughter about that and she said, “well, if your friends are that stupid….”

    • Hi Lorraine! I am so glad to see you here. Do I question myself. Oh hell..I question myself every day. Every hour. Maybe even down to the minute. I don’t feel very brave. Hardly ever. I do love writing though and it’s the connections I’ve made that keep me going. I don’t know how I got along without it before. I’m sending you my peaceful and happy thoughts.

  • That’s pretty weird. It’s a shame if people can do that when they’re young and lose it later.

    Maybe. It might be good that we lose it. I’m not sure.

    My grandfather used to be able to guess what suit of card we were holding. Later on, when he was very sick, I asked him how he had done it. He explained that he always had a 25% chance since there were only four suits. But he guessed right 100% of the time!

  • The freaky thing we had happened the three times I was called to say one of my kids was in a hospital. Each of those three times, no matter what the person told me on the other end, I somehow knew if my child was OK or if it was more serious. The one that sounded the worst “He’s was laying in the road and he wasn’t moving”, and “The kids that were OK were taking to XXX hospital, but he got airlifted to XXX, with the ones with serious injuries — that was the one my heart was so sure he was just very mildly hurt. I just knew. The other two times my thoughts (and words – I told my husband out loud) were exactly correct as to the degree of injury. I really felt like when they were badly hurt I could feel it.

  • Oh God, I am so tempted to say something awful – just to see the poetry you’d make. but no, instead I will say I totally believe in the mind reading stuff. My sister and I have it big time.
    Once I sent her an email with a secret I had been keeping from her. I received an email from her almost instantly about a secret she had been keeping from me.
    We checked the time stamp on the emails. Same. Those emails had crossed each other in cyber space.

  • I am with you. I just want to hibernate until the election is all over.
    I have a real issue with anxiety all the time. Did I miss how the new meds are working?
    I am thinking I need something different. I have been on the same thing for a long time.

    • The new meds are less than stellar. I feel like I gave them a good shot. I’m going to stop ingesting sugar and start working out again and try to get a grip that way. sigh. I so badly wish there was a real “happy” pill.

      • Abilify is for depression. If you have good drug insurance get your doctor to change you over to that. One pill, twice a day.

      • I am trying to stay off sugar and it really helps with the weight loss but not the anxiety for me. I crave Dr. Pepper but other sugar not so much anymore. I just cannot stop from getting a Dr. Pepper a few times a week (oh what the heck – I should not mislead you – I am up to every day again almost) 🙁 . I am very happy I am not addicted to some illegal substance 🙂

  • Oh come on, don’t you think Dude would look stylish wearing some new ‘vogs?
    I guess the closest thing to telepathy I’ve had (that didn’t involve LSD) was the improvising I did with my musician friends. That actually takes a kind of connection I still can’t explain after all of these years.
    If Zach only freaked you out a dozen or so times, he was slacking (said the man whose mother used to refer to him as “the uninhibited child.”)
    This election will be over soon, and it appears to be moving away from the “batshit crazy” zone. And speaking of bats, did you read my comment in your previous post about bats and tequila? The things you find out when you get email from National Geographic…
    And may that hurricane mind its manners and stay the hell away from Terri Lee.

    • I fucking answered this once and wordpress ate it!

      So, yeah, Randy already photographed Dude in my Fluevogs. They look better on me. And I did see the bat video! Awesome. I wanted to install bat houses on our back trees but I got vetoed by randy and joey cause they’re pussies.

  • I get freaked out a an adult. You know about the time storm which I’m not going to rehash but leave everybody befuddles.

    You also know about my mental illness and will likely, hopefully not, ascribe the following to my illness.

    I was cuddled in my bed when something invisible tugged my blanket to straighten it out on me and presumably grab my attention. What’d I do? Went to sleep.

    About 2 months after that I was sleeping with the windows open. I got cold. Something ran it’s “finger” across my shoulder-blade. It tingled. It was slightly warmer than my shoulder. Again, I went to sleep.

    Having this mental illness is a real treat. I think my friends who know get tired of hearing about it. I have had some good things. Not as interesting except for the bumblebee. I’m not retelling that story here either because I told it once and no one replied so fuck it.

    Basically I’m trying to trade odd story for odd story. How’m I doing?

    • I think you’re doing great, my friend. I LOVE stories like this. I mean, not the mental illness part..the freaky part.

      Mental illness is not fun, no doubt..I guess we just have to work with what we have. What else can we do?

      • I’m at the age where people with SD check out. The hallucinations and realities get to them. I’m fucking hanging in though. My lovely wife needs me and I may get a small dog sometime. Besides, I have a few friends. Virtual but still… friends.

  • Precocious Daughter and I very often will express the same thought or mood, and it always tickles me. But…when I want to know what she feels, herself, independent of me, I find her almost unreadable. I wish I had that gift. It would keep me from lying awake at night, worried that I’ve destroyed my child’s life through my choices. Maybe my parents wish the same thing. You’re an amazing mom, is my point. Love you.

    • Oh trust me, I made mistakes. I made huge mistakes. Sometimes all I can do to stave off the guilt is to tell myself that no matter what, my kids have always known I love them.

  • I have been reading Women of Midlife blogs posts this Saturday. This is the second one that left me with more questions than answers. Just to let you know, I don’t not believe in ghosts either.

    #1 Does your son still read your mind because if he does he knows a lot of good swear words.
    #2 If he does, does he still do what you ask?
    #3 Are you freaking kidding me?


    •, he does not. He is 29 years old now and the last time I really noticed him picking stuff out of my brain was around age 4 or 5. He does, however, know a lot of good swear words, as does his younger brother. haha.

      No. He does NOT do what I ask, but he does seem to value my opinion more now that he’s nearly 30.

  • I read this article where it said that all of us survivors or narcissistic abuse and other abuse are triggered right now because of someone who is currently getting a lot of media coverage. That he is acting like all those people we escaped from.

    I found this very soothing. At first I thought I was seeing and hearing ghosts of my past everywhere.

    I deleted my blog in paranoia that my family would find me , after decades.

    I am staying off facebook, and I’m down to reading maybe 8 blogs. And no tumblr. It’s getting a little better. We just have to hold on, I hope, for another six weeks. I hope.

    • I am so sorry you are suffering. I totally get it..this past year has been a never ending trigger. I am giving you all my peaceful thoughts, sister. xoxoxoxoxox

  • It’s so weird to wake up and read this (not the Zach thing, which I think is pretty cool), but the whole over it thing. I posted a rant on FB last night about how my heart just hurts, between idiot relatives, mistreated people and animals, this stupid election. I’m going on a time out. I even moved the FB app off the main screen of my phone and turned off notifications. I need a break. And I sure hope this country doesn’t devolve into an apocalyptic, end-of-times, 1950’s, creepy clown nation. I. Will. Run. Away.

  • Remember how scared we were of the year 2000? All sorts of horrible things were supposed to happen and none of them did. I think we will come out of this okay and laugh later at how scared we were.
    Keep making us smile, please.

    • I really hope so. Only I wasn’t afraid of the year 2000. I’m a computer programmer and I knew the measures that were being taken to correct the data issue and I also knew that the fallout of it not being taken care of would probably be just some annoyances. Trump scares me way more.

      But I hope you’re right. I really do.

      And I will try! If I couldn’t laugh I would probably go completely mad.

  • Holy shit, we are some kind of kindred spirits. I call myself an open-minded skeptic. I’m not a believer in the paranormal but I’m not going to mock anyone else’s beliefs or experiences because I don’t know everything.
    And I want to believe.
    And I really do believe Zach could read your mind.
    Although I do find clowns hilarious. Especially scary clowns.

    • I believe he did as well because there is literally no other explanation I can come up with. And clowns don’t really scare me. Some dolls do, though..with their creepy dead eyes.

By Michelle


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